Ass-grabbing incident #1
Yeah. There's more than one. (Turning red, but smiling). Once upon a time, a VERY long time ago, when I was first married, to the first husband, we decided to go shopping at the local mall. Once we arrived at Sears, we separated to do our own shopping. I left him in the men's department, and I went merrily on my way to wherever. I finished up quickly and made my way back to where I had left said husband. I saw him browsing through the racks of shirts. Thought I'd surprise him so I came up from behind, (no pun intended), grabbed a big hunk of his buttocks, and said something like, "Hey cutie!" The guy whipped around and I don't know who was more shocked - him or me - for that there specimen of a man was NOT MY HUSBAND. I let out a yelp, did an about face, and hightailed it out of there. My face was so red and hot as I went running up and down the aisles looking for my REAL husband. I found him and grabbed his hand. "Quick! We gotta get out of here!" I whispered fiercly, dragging him out of the store.
"What's the matter?" he asked.
"I'll explain later!" I said, continuing to pull him towards the exit.
He thought it was pretty funny that I grabbed a stranger's ass. I, on the other hand, didn't take the time to enjoy it - I was too embarrassed over the situation.
Ass-grabbing incident #2 (Are we beginning to see a pattern here?)
I didn't go to college right out of high school, but started taking classes one class at a time a few years later. I became a perpetual college student and mingled among the young 'uns whilst I was getting older and older. (smile) Most of my classes were in the evenings, so the students ages ran the gambit, but my day classes consisted of late teens and early twenty year olds. One day I was moving with the young crowd, flowing up the stairs. I was carrying my books and my purse. I was not near the handrail (someone must have been blocking it). I began to stumble while walking up the stairs and the first thing I did to break my fall was put my hand up to grab on to whatever was in front of me. Unfortunately, (for him) it happened to be the young man's ass in tight fitting jeans on the step in front of me. He probably would have enjoyed it much better if some young chicky-babe grabbed him instead of a young at heart, old enough to be his mom, clutz, did. But, oh well, it was good for me.
The most stupidest/embarrassing moment to date
Let me start this story by telling you about my son-in-law, Dave. He's a wonderful, humorous, and kind man. He lives and breathes sports. Particularly soccer. He probably played on a team when he was in middle school or younger. I know he played on teams both in high school and college. He is now on a men's league in town, AND he coaches two local high school teams - the boy's team in the fall and the girl's team in the spring. Like I said - soccer is pretty much his life. He just mentioned that as soon as our grand daughter, Lily, can walk, he's putting a ball at her feet!
We were over at their house the other night. He was watching an international soccer game on TV, or football, as they like to call it in Europe. I can honestly say that I have never watched a professional soccer game on TV for more than a minute or two. I am not familiar with how they do anything with the game. (Notice how I'm making excuses beforehand?) So, we're watching the game, blah, blah, blah. It's the Arsenal's (from London) vs. the Celtic's (from Scotland). That's all I know is - one team is wearing red; the other looks like a bunch of bumblebees in yellow and black striped shirts AND socks. Not exactly a fashion statement. The red team Scores! Then again! And again! Meanwhile the clock continues adding the minutes. It's not like our "football" where the clock starts over again at each quarter. (Who knew?) I would glance at the screen, watch a couple of seconds, then talk with my daughter, or play with the baby. (Read - another excuse.) Anyhoo, on the screen flashes three players names and numbers like this:
Joe Smith - 64 m
Tom Jones - 78 m
Joe Blow - 93 m
And I say.....wait for it....wait for it...
"What is that - their height, like in meters?"
Every one bursts out laughing. My daughter says, "Yeah, Mom, they just happened to select these three players and decided to display their heights!"
Dave patiently explained that those were the three players who had scored so far in the game, and the numbers meant the time of the game that they scored.
The look on Dave's face was priceless. Like he was trying to be respectful, yet he couldn't believe I could be SO STUPID. "And, by the way," he continued, "they'd all be REALLY tall, because one meter is about so big," showing me with his hands above the floor.
Well, I never was good in math and I was so relieved America never went through with converting to the metric system.
Here's one from Barbara Bush.
In her memoirs, Barbara Bush described one of those most embarrassing moments that inevitably occur, even on the most carefully advanced of foreign trips. Along with her husband, then the Vice President, Mrs. Bush was lunching with Emperor Hirohito at Tokyo's Imperial Palace.
Sitting next to the Emperor, Mrs. Bush found the conversation an uphill task. To all her efforts at verbal engagement, the Emperor would smile and say "Yes" or "No," with an occasional "Thank You" tossed in for good measure.
Looking around her elegant surroundings, she complimented Hirohito on his official residence.
"Thank you," he said.
"Is it new?" pressed Mrs. Bush.
"Was the old palace just so old that it was falling down?" asked Mrs. Bush.
In his most charming, yet regal, matter, Hirohito replied, "No, I'm afraid that you bombed it."
C'mon spill yours. I want to hear them.